


A World Without Fences Only There’s More Family Issues

by mandaree1



Category: 101 Dalmatian Street (Cartoon), 101 Dalmatians - All Media Types
Genre: Dawkins is So Done, Delilah doesn't pop up much, Dolly had a second dad and that's the tea, Dolly: dude change sucks, Dylan: I'll keep all my feelings right here and one day I'll die, Family Issues, First Meetings, Gen, Great Dad Doug, Learning to handle Change, New Family, Pre-Canon, Step-Family, Step-siblings, Treehouse Sleepovers, which is a shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Doug and co move into the house, dogpiling Dylan with twice the family members to take care of. It’s too much for one dog alone- but the only other option is his new sister, Dolly; a wild, reckless pup who rarely ever comes home. But if things are ever going to settle at 101 Dalmatian Street, the two pups are going to have to come together.





	A World Without Fences Only There’s More Family Issues

They came in on a big truck. Dylan didn't know how they got ahold of the truck, exactly, or the person to drive it, but they did and it got there. There's something familiar about seeing an ocean of black and white puppies come spilling out of something; but those were _his_ siblings, not these puppies. These were siblings too, but... new. New siblings. Strangers.

Doug is not a stranger. The firehouse dog proudly watched as they piled into the house ( _his_ house, Dylan's mind blared, _his house and not theirs_ ). Strapped to his back was a suitcase, and another was clenched in his teeth. He spat that one out. "There, uh, there's a lot more in the back."

"Easy trip, I hope," Delilah said, reaching out to bump noses with him. "You know, when dogs talk of moving in, I don't think they're thinking on this scale."

"Most dogs don't have as many kids as we do," he answered cheerfully. "Shame to be them."

Dawkins came up on Dylan's side. He cleared his throat. "I've done a headcount," he said. "We're missing one."

Doug's smile fell, just a little. "Yeah, that's Dolly. She's hanging with her friends." He held out a paw. "Anyway, it's good to see you boys. Listen, I know I'm not-"

"-Not our dad, but you want us to know you're here for us?" Dawkins guessed. He sighed and took the pawshake. "Thank you, Doug. It's... an appreciated statement."

Dylan tried to say something, but it came out more as a wheeze. He bobbed his head up and down almost mechanically, complete with squeaky metal noises.

Delilah leaned in close. "He's processing."

"Nope!" he managed to spit out. "Totally supportive! Happy! Love you mum!"

"I love you too, sweetie." She patted him on the head. "You want to go take a bit to yourself in the treehouse?"

Dylan nodded some more.

"Alrighty then," Doug said, surprisingly somber. "Listen, little buddy. If this is too much... I mean, there's always apartments and stuff. We don't gotta do this in one day."

"You're in London, Doug," Dawkins said. "It's a _flat_."

Dylan didn't dare respond, lest he say something that would disappoint Delilah. Today was for his mum, not him- as nice as he found Doug, he wasn't the one in love with him. And if she wanted to spend her days living with him, and maybe marry him, that was her right. He just-

He didn't know what _he just_ , yet.

He found himself at the back of the house, clutching a paw to his chest. His breathing was awkward and forced as he muttered to himself. "Get it together, dog! You're used to a big family anyway. So what if it's double the size it used to be? So what if you'll be sharing the house with practical strangers?"

"Sounds rough." He jumped to see Diesel sitting patiently beside him, covering in his usual amount of mud. "You okay, Dylan?"

"Just- a little stressed about the move-in, buddy."

"Why?" He cocked his head to the side. "It's like a sleepover. A forever-sleepover!"

The use of forever made his heart jerk. "It's just-"

Maybe he would've finished his sentence, had there not been an ear-piercing howl. Over the back fence came a blur of black and white and skateboard, slamming directly into one of the few clean spots on the house. The dog on the board stumbled backwards, shaking herself out with a cackle. She, like Diesel, was covered in dirt. "Wipeout!"

"Can I... help you?" Dylan asked.

The new dog jumped. "Oh, hey. This is 101, right?"

"Yes?"

"Cool, cool." She padded over and held out a muddy paw. "'M Dolly."

He inched away from the appendage. "Aren't you... with friends?"

"I was, but I figured I should pick my bed out before they were all gone." Dolly shook herself out, splattering Dylan with copious amounts of mud, and the part of Dylan's brain that _wasn't_ screaming was telling him to help. That's what he did. He took care of the pups. That hadn't changed.

"I could... give you a tour?" He gestured to her dirty fur. "Once you get rid of all that."

"Huh?" Dolly looked down. "Oh. You guys gotta hose?"

Diesel gave a little hop. He had the rope in his mouth. "I do! I do!" He paused, staring at the hose as if it were a question to be answered. "I can't reach the turny thing though."

"I can-" Dylan started to say, only for Dolly to nonchalantly reach over and give it a twist- "Or you can. Sorry, I'm not used to dogs my size in the house."

"Don't get used to it. I'm not much of a homebody." Dolly held the hose chord tightly, letting the cold water shower her in a burst before fiddling with the settings so it came out softer. "Here you go, kiddo. Make yourself some mud pies or somethin'."

"I like mud!"

Now that Dolly was clean, and Dylan got a better look at her, he let out a gasp. "You don't have a collar!"

"No duh. Like I said; I ain't no homebody."

"But- but-"

Dolly stopped mid-scratch. "What are ya, some kinda tattletale?"

"I'm a dog of the law!" Dylan defended. "Humans do all sorts of weird stuff to dogs with no collars!"

"So what? You don't gotta pet, do you?"

"No, but-"

"Then I'm in the clear." Dolly stuck her tail in the air and trotted by him with an air of victory. "Now, to pick out my spot."

They both froze at a crashing sound. It was Doug, and judging by his uproarious laughter he'd been pulled into a group hug that'd thrown him to the floor. "Ooooh, I love you all so much!" he bellowed. "Look at you all!"

The declaration made Dolly flinch. She stared at the house a moment, tail dragging, before shaking herself and turning away. "Whatever. Houses are for squares." She pointed at the tree. "That treehouse looks open."

"That is _my_ treehouse," Dylan argued. "It's where I keep my astrological technology!"

"Relaaaaaax, I won't touch any of it." The pup hardly even bothered to pause to talk to him before she was climbing up the ladder. "G'night!"

Cold, muddy paws touch his side. "Dylan, the grass is all floody. It's hard to dig when the grass is all floody."

Dylan lets out a long breath from his nostrils and slowly reaches over to turn the water off. "This is going to be a _long_ adjustment period."

* * *

There's always been a crowding problem in the house. It's just a side effect of having so many siblings. But now there's _double_ those siblings, and Dylan, as the registered big brother, is expected to give up his cushion until the little ones have settled in.

Which would be fine, if there was room anywhere on the floor.

"Look at the bright side," advises Dante, who is absolutely one of Doug's and easily the weirdest of them, as he watches Dylan roll over for the fiftieth time. "The world is probably gonna end any day now, so you won't have to do this for long."

"Real bundle of joy, aren't you?" he asked.

The black pup smiles, his jaw making the noise a creaky basement door might make in a horror movie. "It's a gift."

Dylan sat up. "I need some air."

"If you spot any falling bombs, make sure to face them!" Dante calls after him. "You wouldn't want to leave a sloppy body mark behind!"

The stairs are full of puppies, forcing Dylan to carefully climb onto the railing. He really, seriously hates this idea, but it's too late to go back now- Dimitri 2 has stolen his spot. He forces his paws to edge down, digging his claws in. He manages maybe two tiny steps before this fails. Dylan catapults into the door with a shriek loud enough to wake the dead but not his siblings, landing with a thud. He stood, shook himself out, and pressed his paw to the pawprint analyzer.

It's a warm night outside as he crawls out through the dog door. Lamplight and fireflies gave the tiny street an almost magical appearance. It felt like anything could happen on these old cobblestone sidewalks. Most anything usually did.

Dew tickled his legs as he slipped into the backyard, feeling dumber by the moment. What did sneaking out accomplish? It just gave them the chance to make things even messier by the time he got up. He could've slipped in with Dawkins- it wasn't like it was hard to move some of his inventions and make a little hole for himself. He had before. But all he could think of was the word homebody.

Was that what he was?

Was that... bad?

"Ow!" he yipped, his head slamming into the wood door that led into his treehouse. "What the kibble-" Dylan pushed unsuccessfully with one paw- "Lemme in!"

There was a shuffling, and then it opened, revealing a bleary-eyed Dolly. "Oh, hey... you."

"Dylan."

"Dylan," she confirmed. "Wassup?"

"Move over- I'm coming in."

He was mildly surprised when she did so- he didn't know Dolly well, but Dylan got the distinct feeling she wasn't one to listen to commands. True to her word, the treehouse was undisturbed, save for the skateboard perched against a pile of books. A quick peek through his telescope revealed that it hadn't been knocked off the constellation it'd been on the night prior.

Dolly yawned. "Didja seriously wake me up to look at nerd stuff?"

"Stars are fascinating, but no." He slumped to the floor, suddenly sheepish. "I, uh... it got cramped."

"What'd you expect?" she asked, closing the treehouse door with a paw. "You got a nice house, but there's, like, a _million_ dogs in it."

"Ninety eight puppies and two grown-ups," he correct absentmindedly. "One hundred exactly. A hundred and one, with you."

" _Too many_." Dolly circled him with a curious sniff. "Alright, you can stay up here tonight, but you gotta ditch that collar, bro."

Dylan gawked at her. "Hey, now! This is my treehouse!"

"Sure is. But I'm not above fightin' for it." Dolly puffed out her chest. "Think you can take this, nerd boy?"

"I'll tell mum you wouldn't share," he threatened.

She blew a raspberry. "Man, you really _are_ a tattletale. _Lame_."

Dylan considered it a moment. Taking off his collar wasn't an idea he was fond of, true, but they weren't going anywhere it'd be an issue. And, besides- he could use this to his advantage. "I'll take my collar off tonight _if_ you come into the house with me tommorrow," he stated. "One night a ruffian, one night a nice, tame house pup."

Dolly rolled her eyes. " _Whatever_."

With great reluctance, the Dalmatian reached up, finding the latch. It came free with a little finagling, rusty from disuse- Dylan might be growing taller, but he was still as gangly as ever, and it made getting a new one unnecessary. From there, he set it on top of his books.

"There," he said. "You happy now?"

"Almost. Turn around."

"Why?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"Not in the slightest," he said, turning around.

Dylan flinched as a paw touched his back. Claws dug into the thick fur around his scruff, awakening a thousand itches he hadn't realized were there until they were being scratched. He slumped over with bliss, a back paw thudding rapidly on the old wood floor. When it was over he stood and shook himself out. "Oooh, that felt good."

"I'm tellin' you, man; those things mess with your fur." Dolly stretched and yawned, curling into a tiny ball. "Was never happier than when I ditched that stupid thing."

"Really?" Dylan asked, curious.

She didn't respond. "I'm gonna wreck that house tommorrow. Just warning you now."

He shrugged, turning into a ball of his own. "Who knows? Maybe being a homebody won't be so horrible."

Dolly looked at him. She seemed surprised. "I never said it was, dude. I'm just... not."

* * *

"If we're lucky, we'll be able to get through a couple of rounds of chess before Doug gets home."

"You _would_ like chess."

Dylan ignored the jab as he pressed his paw to the analyzer. "I'm more of a Poodlewolf fan, actually, but I lost my dice. It'll be a coupla days before my new set comes in."

"I dunno what Poodlewolf is, but it sounds even nerdier than chess."

He waved a paw in a so-so manner. "They're about the same. Both employ strategy, but you make a character for Poodlewolf, _and_ a story, so you get to decide how much difficulty you want." Dylan flashed her what he hoped was a winning smile. "I'll start us off easy. Who knows; you might even make a good Kennel Master!"

"I doubt it," Dolly said, but she didn't look _too_ against the idea.

The two pups padded inside just in time to run right into Delilah, who quickly stepped backwards to avoid falling on them. "There you are, Dylan! I was starting to get worried." She squinted at him. "Where's your collar?"

Dylan froze, reaching a paw up to feel at his scruff. "Oh, shoot, I forgot to put it back on! Sorry, mum." He sheepishly wagged his tail. "I was having a sleepover with Dolly."

"It's perfectly okay to have it off around the house, you know," she said, turning to look at Dolly. "Hello, dear."

Dolly had been snickering at his dismay. Now she sat up straight. "Hey, Delilah."

"I hope you've settled in alright. I know you're not much of a house dog."

"Yeah, I'm fine. There's a place by the canal I can go if it's too much." She stepped out of the way of the door. "Gotta say- your top dog is a dork."

That seemed to remind Delilah of her original intent. "Oh, that's right. I've got to run up to the store for some more kibble. Take care of the house while I'm away." She nosed Dylan's forehead; then, in a quieter tone, went on. "I'm proud of you."

"I didn't do anything."

"You're working with Dolly. I didn't think the two of you would get along."

"I dunno why. I mean, we don't have a lot in common, but she seems alright."

Delilah shook her head. "I'll be back soon!" she called behind her, and then she was gone. Dolly watched her leave, giving no indication if she'd overheard their whispers.

"So," said Dylan, suddenly hyperaware that this was apperantly a big deal. Dolly hadn't given any indication before that she hadn't been inside a house before today, but his mum was acting like it was. Dolly herself didn't seem perturbed at being indoors, looking around with idle curiosity. "How 'bout that tour?"

"Sure, why no-"

"REVENGE!"

Two medium-sized water balloons smacked the Dalmatian straight in the back, drenching him in the millisecond. He looked up the stairwell indignantly. "Dee Dee! Dizzy!"

The two sisters made faces at him. It was Dizzy who responded. "We're rebelling!"

"This is _tile_ , you two! Someone could slip and get seriously hurt!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Dolly yelled, climbing up beside the puppies. There was a devious twinkle in her eye. "What're you rebelling about?"

"Over," Dylan corrected.

" _Besides_ grammar police."

"Dylan promised to read us a bedtime story," Dee Dee huffed. "And he didn't!"

It felt like a slap to the muzzle. "Oh, man, I forgot. I'm so sorry, guys."

Dolly nodded sagely. "A just cause for rebellion." She leaned over them and grabbed a balloon between her teeth. "Revenge!"

Dizzy and Dee Dee perked up, holding balloons of their own.

"Oh no."

The tour ended up being more of a race around the house as Dylan was hounded by pups with water balloons. He passed through the dining room (splattered with Da Vinci's newest works), then the kitchen (currently filled the brim with one of D.J.'s recitals), and then around and up the stairs. He hit the tile on the bathroom floor and the irony of the situation hit him half a second before the sink did.

Dolly dropped her balloon, panting. "I think he's learned his lesson, girls."

Dizzy chucked one more to make sure. The trio traded high fives before dispersing, Dolly cheerfully trotting over to the crumpled dog. "You alive?"

Dylan let out a moan.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. "Got any grub?"

They met Dante in the hallway. Dylan half-expected a comment on his lack of collar, something he imagined the dog would see as a grim show of rebellion for the nothingness in the universe. Instead, he looked at Dolly as if he'd seen a ghost. "Oh. I thought you'd been sucked into the endless abyss."

Dolly cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "I got lost on the bus on the way here."

"Close enough," he decided. "Glad to see you aren't dead."

She patted his head. "Love you too."

Dylan brought up the exchange while they chewed through bowls of kibble. "You know, you're actually pretty decent with the pups."

Dolly snorted. "Duh. It's not hard. I love fun. Puppies love fun. We mix."

"Did Doug make you top dog?"

She shrugged, playing with the edge of the bowl. She didn't look very hungry now. "I'm not gonna, like, try and take the position from you, if that's what you're thinking."

"I didn't think that at all." He paused. "We could... share. If you wanted."

"Yeah, right." Dolly rolled her eyes. "I know your type, Dylan."

Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but Dolly buried her face in the kibble and refused to give him a second look. He waited impatiently for her to finish before trying again, only for her to stand, shake herself out, and confidently move away, as if the conversation was over.

Dylan followed her into the laundry room, the washers and dryers clunking. With a family this big, they were almost always full of blankets and towels, and despite it being a more American tradition they kept them tucked away for that very reason. It wouldn't do to flood the bathroom with dirty clothing. "What was that supposed to mean?"

She spared him a glance. "What was what?"

"You said you knew 'my type'." He made bunny-ears on the words. "What's my type, exactly?"

"Oh, that?" Dolly sat down. "That's easy. You're a control freak. You don't like change, so you schedule it and make it all orderly and boring so it doesn't really _feel_ like change. But it _is,_ dude. It's change."

Dylan grit his teeth. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep things tidy!"

" _Of course not_. But you gotta let stuff _breathe_ , you know?" She gestured vaguely with her paw. "That's _my_ type. I let it all hang out. We could never be top dogs together."

"You know what I think, Dolly?" Dylan pushed his muzzle against hers. "I don't think it is. I think you wanna pretend nothing's wrong. You don't care about the house, but you wanna be in control of you- so you ditch your collar and sleep in _my_ treehouse so you can act like you're above it all. But you're not! So stop making excuses and _deal with it._ "

" _Wow_ ," Dolly scoffed. "We have one sleepover and you think you know me."

"You think you know me!" Dylan snapped. "But we don't know each other! That was the whole point of this, Dolly. I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to see if you would help me."

"Oooooh, I see. You just wanted a nanny." Dolly hunched her shoulders defensively. "What's _mom_ gonna think when she-"

"She's not _your_ mom!"

They lapsed into silence. The dryer came to a stop with a little jingle.

"You're right," Dolly murmured. Her voice was gruff, as if she'd screamed it. "She's not. She's yours."

"Dolly, I-"

"This whole house is yours. Everything here is yours." She stood and walked away. "You can keep it. I'm gone."

Dolly kicked the door shut behind her. Dylan winced at the noise.

* * *

"Any particular reason your tail is sticking out of a basket of linens?"

He pulled it inside with a sigh. "I'm sulking."

"Hadn't noticed," said Dawkins, straight-faced. "What did you do?"

Dylan turned around and poked his head out. "Hey, it wasn't like- I mean, it _was_ \- but she started it, okay?"

Dawkins raised an eyebrow. "I assume this is about Dolly?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You know how the Triple Ds are- dreadful gossips." The pup gave his shoulder a pointed shove. "Word on the street is that you and Dolly were heard yelling at each other, and then Dolly stormed out."

"I said something terrible, Dawkins."

"How terrible are we talking here? Like, confessing to murder, or..."

"Worse," Dylan admitted. "She called mom mom, Dawkins."

He tilted his head to the side. "That's a good sign, isn't it? It shows a willingness to adapt."

"It was, until I told her that she _wasn't_ her mom."

Dawkins opened his mouth, then closed it, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. "How did you manage to screw things up _that_ badly?"

"She started it!"

"We have more siblings than the average school has staff, Dylan. You _know_ how to handle in-fighting."

Dylan reluctantly put his front paws out of the basket, head lowered shamefully. "I guess I just wanted things to move faster, you know? I tried to get Dolly into the house, tried to get her to be top dog with me... and then, when we started speeding up, I slammed on the brakes."

"Change isn't going to hurt less if you rush it."

He flinched. "I need to apologize."

"You do. But, first- the puppies require a bedtime story. I refuse to clean up more water balloon remains this week."

Dylan tucked his siblings- new and old- in, then slipped down the stairs. He knew he should eat, having not done so since lunch, but the thought of food made his tummy queasy. Maybe, he decided, maybe just maybe, if they managed to work this whole thing out, he and Dolly could have a late night snack together. She probably hadn't eaten either.

"I can't believe I missed it!" yell-whispered Doug in the kitchen, making Dylan pause.

"She seemed fairly okay with it," Delilah said, smiling at his excitement. "She was polite to me- even let me out the door. She might just come around yet."

"I sure hope so. I- I don't want her to be unhappy, you know?" His ears fell a little. "I know she misses... yeah. I've tried to get her to talk to me- to tell me what I can do to help- but she won't say."

"Sometimes, what dogs need is time to themselves." Dylan watched his mom press her head to Doug's. "Give it time, love. Maybe the move will do her good."

"Your boy seems to have."

Dylan moved away before he could hear more. "Well, that was one way to make me feel even guiltier," he decided aloud, slinking around the side of the house. He dodged a hole Diesel had dug earlier that day, grabbing a misplaced squeaky toy to fill the space. He was stalling, and he knew it. Dylan sighed and forced himself to keep moving, feeling like all the cats in the world were sitting on his chest. Apologies were hard. They were even harder with practical strangers.

He had absolutely no idea how Dolly would react, but he doubted it would be pretty.

"Dolly," he hissed, rapping his paw on the treehouse door. "Dolly, we need to talk."

Silence.

"Listen, Dolly. I messed up, okay? I was waaaay out of line. What you said earlier hurt, but that's no excuse. You're part of this family now too." Still nothing. Dylan experimentally pushed against the wood, finding it giving way without an issue. "I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He shoved his head inside. "I'm so-"

The treehouse was empty.

"Oh, Dog."

* * *

"Dog, Dog, Dog," whimpered Dylan as he paced the wood floor of the treehouse. Dolly's scent was cold, and her skateboard was nowhere to be seen. "We've got a runaway. Oh, Dog."

Something caught his paw, sending him to the floor. He stood and shook himself out, finding his collar sitting almost inconspicuously in front of him. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he carefully put it on. Dylan sucked in a deep breath. "Get it together, Dalmatian. She can't have been gone long. Just... follow your nose."

The sky was dark and cloudy as he slipped out into the sidewalk. The lamplight had been comforting the other day; now, it was downright terrifying, hiding monsters in its shadows. But, somehow, the idea of going inside scared him more. How could he look his mum in the eye and tell her he drove one of her newest pups away? How could he tell Doug, for that matter? They might not be all that close yet, but he was well-meaning. He wanted the best for his kids- and Dylan counted as one of them, now.

A metal clanking noise made him jump. Dylan took a few steadying breaths and moved on. Dolly's scent was mixed in with the quickly dampening air, making it hard to follow, but he had a good idea where she'd be.

"The canal," he muttered to himself. "She's probably by the canal. That's not so scary, is it? It's just a bunch of water. Boats, maybe a few food stands, that sort of thing."

"You always talk to yourself?"

"It helps me focus and-" Dylan stopped mid-sentence whirling around. "Who said that!"

A barking laugh was quickly followed by the rusty red and black of a fox as he stepped into the light. "Relax, mate. I'm pretty harmless."

Dylan's fur bushed out. "I- I don't have any food."

The fox laughed again. "I noticed. Whattaya doin' out so late, man?" He gestured to his throat, where his collar sat once again. "You clearly got a house to live in."

He studied the stranger a moment. Dylan didn't know whether he trusted him or not. Regardless, he might have seen something. That alone made the risk worth it. "I'm... looking for someone. Seen anybody with spots like mine?"

"Another Dalmatian?" he offered. "Couldn't tell you. There's plenty of you running around Camden."

"Her name is Dolly. She's my height, with black sock-spots."

To his surprise, the fox's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, Dolly. Sure, I know her." He straightened up. "The name's Fergus. Who're you?"

"Dylan."

Fergus made a go on gesture. "You lot all have that D name thing going on."

"I'm..." Dylan considered lying, then decided against it. They were the same breed, after all. "I'm her brother."

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific."

"How much more specific can I be?"

"Dude, she's got, like, a million brothers." Fergus tilted his head to the side, a cheeky smile stretched across his muzzle. "How do I know you're not one she played a prank on, out looking for revenge?"

Dylan's face fell. "Would I be out in this weather if I was?"

"Fair enough." He broke out in a laugh, patting him on the head. "Ah, I'm just pulling your tail. Dolly told me all about you, and the spat you got in. Lookin' to say sorry?"

He nodded.

Fergus waved his tail. "Follow me."

The rumbling only worsened as Dylan was deeper and deeper into the streets and alleys. Fergus seemed to be a good sport, in spite of the horrible things he must've heard, helping him over and around various debris. It was a quiet walk, but not too uncomfortable. Dylan decided he could grow to like Fergus.

They finally reached a storefront that bordered on the canal; or, to be more apt, the two trash cans outside of the store. A blanket had been tucked between the two lids, and underneath it slept Dolly, curled up on a discarded microwave meal box. The Dalmatian was practically inside out with how tightly she held herself, desperate to keep some warmth.

"I'll wait over there." Fergus nodded to the opposite street corner. "Good luck, dude."

Dylan watched him go. The night felt scary again, but for another reason. The incoming rain didn't matter as much as his sister did. As much as his _family_ did.

He sat down just outside her little tent. "Dolly?"

She didn't open her eyes, still half-asleep. "Hmm?"

"I was wrong."

"Yup."

"And you had a point. I mean, you could've worded it better, but you did. And I'm old enough to know better than to say things like that."

"Mhmm."

"Come home, Dolly."

Dolly stood and turned her back on him, laying back down. "No."

" _Please_ , Dolly."

"I said no."

The first cold drop hit Dylan right on the head. He glanced up, then looked back at her. "I know I messed stuff up, but the rest of the family is gonna get worried if you're not home soon."

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Dolly sat up and snorted. "'Gonna get'?" she echoed, voice scathing. "They don't even know I'm gone, do I?"

"They will."

"They probably already know you're missing," she went on. "Because you matter to them."

"That's not fair!" Dylan cried. "Your dad loves you so, so much, Dolly. Just because _I_ had a conniption-"

"Not everything is about you, alright?" It was her turn to shove her nose against his, teeth bared in a growl. "I'm not an idiot, Dylan. Dad and the pups love you- and why wouldn't they? You're what they _need_. And I tried to fit in today, I _tried_ to be a good sister, but I was just... in the way."

"You're not in the way. Moving on takes time, that's all."

The fight left Dolly in an instant as the rain hit her, dampening her fur. "I don't _want_ to move on." Dylan opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "It's not you, or the house, or Delilah. They're great. All of it is. I just... I dunno. I miss how things were."

"I do too," he answered. He paused, considering, then continued. "I think... we're allowed to."

Her ears fell flat. "Oh, so this is suddenly a _we_ thing?"

"You know what I meant."

Dolly shook her head at him. "Just- go home without me, Dylan." She turned away, already half-crawling into the nest. "I'll be fine."

"Uh, guys?" Fergus broke in. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that's a dog catcher."

"A what?" Dylan shrieked. Sure enough, when he turned there was someone standing over them with a net. They were crouched low, hands out soothingly.

"It's okay, doggies," the dog catcher murmured. "Gonna get you out of this rain."

* * *

"I can't believe you presented belly."

"There's bigger problems here, Dolly!"

"Okay, yeah, but... belly."

"You're lucky I can't reach you." Dylan stretched a paw through his cage. Sure enough, he couldn't connect with the other dog, sitting pretty in one of her own. The back of the van was empty of other canines, the catcher clearly scooping up any strays they saw on their way home as volunteer work of sorts. "What're they gonna do to us, anyway? Flea and tick bath? Chipping?" He gasped. " _Spay and neuter_?"

"Dude, relax," Dolly said. "You've got a collar, remember? They'll just call home. Delilah or pops'll come get you in the morning."

"Oooh, I'm gonna be so grounded." Dylan sank to the floor of his kennel, pouting.

"It could be worse."

"Yeah, I know. I'd hate to not have... a collar." He stared at her. "Dolly, you're not wearing a collar."

"Yeah?"

"Dolly, _you're not wearing a collar_."

Dolly reached up and felt her scruff. "It's fine. I'll be fine. They'll just drop me off at some shelter, and then some humans'll take me in."

"How are you gonna get home if-"

She turned her back on him. "I told you, Dylan. I'm not _going_ home."

Dylan reached out again. His paw brushed against the lock. With some difficulty, he got his claws underneath, lifting the tab and sliding it to the side. The door popped open. "There! Now you can get me out, and we can get out together, and-"

Dolly grabbed the cage door and slammed it shut with a sour look. "Would it kill you to listen to someone else for a second? I'm. Not. Going. Back."

"Dolly, please," Dylan pleaded. "I get that I don't understand. I do. I know that you're going through more than I am. You're in a new place, and a new home. But I've lost someone too, and I know that hurts."

There was a pregnant pause as Dolly slowly, ever-so-slowly, turned around, staring at the rain hitting the window. "Do you... ever miss him?"

"My dad?" The word hurt to say. "Yeah, sometimes."

Dolly looked away. "I miss my other dad." Her shoulders jerked. "Why can't I do that?"

"You can! You totally can." Dylan pressed a paw to the cool metal squares criss-crossing his kennel. "Doug loves you, you know. A lot."

"I know."

"I heard him and mom talking, and they were so happy to hear _you_ were happy. We... we love you, sis. All of us," he said. "Let's work this change thing out together, okay? As a family."

"Yeah?" A brief flicker of a smile appeared on her face. "Gonna be kinda hard to do that, seeing how I'm probably headed for a shelter."

"Not necessarily. The van hasn't moved yet."

"Fergus is probably distracting the human." Dolly stuck her paws through the wire frame. "You mind... doing that lock thingy again?"

Dylan smiled. "Sure thing."

Once out of her kennel, Dolly quickly wrangled the door to Dylan's. Together they clawed uselessly at the door, finding it to be locked. "Aw, kibble."

"I pick locks." Out of nowhere came a puffball of white, calmly sticking a claw into the lock. "I am Snowball. Neighbor."

"Have you... been here long?" Dylan asked. "Because I literally didn't notice you."

"I come and go as I please," Snowball said. "Dues Ex Machina."

"That is... disconcerting."

Dolly was cackling. "I like you."

One twist of the paw and they were sprinting into the wet, muddy night, Fergus close behind. Snowball vanished just as mysteriously as she appeared.

* * *

Dylan had fallen asleep to two wet bundles pressed against him, and woken to none. He supposed it wasn't surprising that Fergus would flee once the rain stopped, uncomfortable in such a cramped house, but Dolly was another matter. He was instantly awake, sniffing the air. Thankfully, the trail at the window they'd crawled in was getting stale.

"They look great on you, sis!" Dizzy chirped, catching his attention.

Dolly's voice made him sag with relief. "Y'really think so?"

"Absolutely," Dee Dee said. "They were always too big for me, so they're practically new!"

"What's going on out here?" he asked as he walked into the second bedroom. He found it surprisingly empty for only noon on a Saturday. In the corner was a floor-length mirror, and in front of that mirror was Dolly. Around her scruff were three, thin collars. "Oh."

Dolly seemed sheepish. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to give collars a try again. And, besides-" she ruffled Dee Dee's fur- "They called to me."

"Overcompensating," Dylan coughed.

"Don't make me get the water balloons."

"Late breakfast?"

"Dude, yes- I'm _starving_."

Dylan proudly showed her the ins and outs of the kibble dispenser Dawkins had made, explaining that he was always attempting to upgrade it, with varied levels of success. Dolly didn't have a Dawkins in her roster, but recalled the strange, flowing fountains taps of food they'd had at a hotel, once, before moving across the sea. "I was pretty young," she added at the end. "But it was dope."

A loud snore from the living room was cut off as they settled in at the table. It was Doug. "Honey?"

Dolly sank down in her seat. Dylan gave her a pointed nudge. "Yeah, dad. It's me."

Doug's burly head appeared in almost a second. He let out a gasp at her new look. "Oh, Dolly, look at you!"

"S'pretty sick, huh?"

"Very sick!" he agreed, coming around to give her a hug. "This means a lot, sweetie. And if there's anything I can do-"

"Nah, dad." She leaned into the embrace. "This is enough."

**Author's Note:**

> Listen LISTEN if I'm the only one who ends up posting for these puppies THEN SO BE IT. Take like 5,000 words of New Family Awkwardness.
> 
> As always, I should mention that I have, like, no experience with this stuff. I'm an only child. I just mimic what I see on TV with sibling relationships. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome!!!
> 
> -Mandaree1


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